No, I did not ride my bike up and down the streets of our city. Nonetheless, I felt like a sprinter, albeit with a motor pushing her forward along the bumpy streets of Madison.
The thing is, we had a lot heaped onto our morning. For me, the day starts, as always, in the flower fields.
(Hey, how about feeding the cats? Shouldn't it start with feeding the cats??)
(The tall lilies are starting to bloom. To me, they look like a waterfall of graceful stems and flowers...)
I work quickly and efficiently.
(In this field, the phlox begins to dominate right about now!)
I no longer count snipped lily heads. I want my brain to clear itself of clutter. I want to enjoy the stretch for that distant lily, the brush with dew dappled leaves. I want to think about what photo to take.
(I love it when one petal's color runs from pink, to peach, to tangerine sherbet, to yellow...)
So I don't count. (But there are many!)
The day is hot from the get go. As Ed says -- it's not the rising temps, it's the high humidity that makes it all seem so stuffy! Still, we turn on the fan and eat breakfast on the porch.
And now comes the motorbike ride from one corner of Madison to the next. We have three stops to make today. First, the big market downtown.
I need flowers, I need mushrooms. Nothing I can get outside the market will come close to the value and quality of what I buy there! And with Ed steering the bike, we can creep up on the stalls we want from the back and avoid the crowds. Because there are crowds.
From there, it's a bumpy ride to the Lakeside Cafe where we do not pick up coffee, but instead we get our weekly bag of direct farmer purchases. Today it's all about blueberries. And a rosemary plant, because I am just about ready to give up on my monster rosemary which I lug indoors for the winter, watch it grow out of control in all directions, drop most leaves, then rejuvenate itself somewhat outdoors during the summer. It's too misshapen, too large, too unmanageable. So I bought a baby newbie. We'll see if I'll have the courage to throw the old one into the compost heap at the end of the summer!
And now more bumps, twists and turns as we make our way to my mom's place. She needs a computer adjustment and I need to hang some pics on her walls. It's a good day to get this done so we set to it.
My mom is doing well in the new place. I'm not surprised. It's as good environment for her. She has her independence even as the essentials are provided for her. If Covid did anything good at all, one could say that it did her the favor of opening up a spot so that she could move into this particular senior living facility.
And finally, with me still clutching my market flowers and hoping that the blueberries don't turn into mush as we navigate the next bump and dance the next road jiggle, we head home.
Normally, Saturday afternoons are quiet around here. The pace is definitely slower, the list of chores smaller. But, from the beginning, this day was a bit of a race to get things done and one thing I must still do is get ready for Snowdrop's overnight visit. As cousins and aunts and uncles passed through town and stayed with us at the farmhouse, the little girl kept asking when she could come for a sleepover once again. (She used to sleep here frequently, but the coming of brothers and Covid messed up that pattern. Today, we're back on track!)
We read, we play. These days she is really consumed by "My Little Ponies" -- stories, movies, little pony figures for her imaginative play.
It seems that when grandkids stay here, we're always flipping pizza pies. Today is no different. In for the final stretch...
But though she wants to help, I'd say that the job of building that pie is less exciting for her than it was, say, for Primrose. Will Snowdrop love to cook someday as much as I have loved fussing with food all my life? Impossible to predict. Today, after making sure her help wasn't essential to the task, she opted to retreat to the living room and have a pillow fight with Ed as I put the finishing touches on the pizza.
We watch a movie. With popcorn. And we catch an Olympic medalist on the screen. What can I say, it was an exciting evening!
I suppose there is something uniquely special about waking up in the little lemon room. The kid bed is right by the window and each child who sleeps there quickly figures out that a tug at the curtain will open up for them a view like no other -- flowers, chickens and a noisy rooster. Willows and birches moving with the wind, should there be a morning breeze. But that's tomorrow. For now, all is quiet as a child sleeps, I pour myself a glass of white wine from the Lake Garda region of Italy and we all let out a deep sigh of summer contentment.
